The Prince of Darkness
by Shadowdragon1317
Summary: Uther knew how dangerous magic was, he wasn't about to declare war on it. So he banishes the magic users to the Darkling Woods, to return on pain of death. Raised as a Prince, Merlin only knows what others have told him. That it's his destiny to kill the Pendragons. But when Arthur and Merlin meet, bonds are tested. Will they destroy themselves in the war, or bring about a new era?
1. The Decision that Shifted Destiny

**I know I have a great many stories unfinished, but ever since I started watching Merlin, I've had the storyline unfolding. And now, with the help of my wonderful beta Wisegirl6, this story finally gets to be seen. Thank you so much for helping me make my story better when you already have so many fans to appease!**

The day Igraine died, magic did as well. It screamed as Uther declared it evil, corrupting, and an abomination. But this man did see sense, albeit only a small amount.

He knew magicians and sorcerers were powerful, and could take apart his carefully created kingdom. Banded together, the sorcerers could raze the whole of Camelot to the ground if they so wished. Many knights had died from the dragon slayings, and the capturing of the Great Dragon. Nobles were reluctant to send their sons to their deaths facing an amass army of magical beings.

But King Uther Pendragon had a solution, one that involved one of the most influential voices of the magical realm: Balinor the Dragonlord.

* * *

Knights caught the renegade Dragonlord in Ealdor three years later, after receiving word from his spies in Lot's kingdom. He had struggled, kept his ground, and fought like a cornered beast. Balinor knew he was more powerful than any knight, but when they produced Hunith, his lover, he gave himself up. So the Camelot knights clad the man in chains, and took the pair of lovers to Camelot. Currently, the King sat patiently at his throne, Arthur behind him with his nurse. The royal toddler prince was already showing similarities with Igraine, his blue eyes that radiated so much child-like innocence. His blonde hair was choppy, and he held a wooden knight one hand, and his nurse's in the other.

Balinor was thrown through the wooden door, accompanied by a knight still holding Hunith; a knife pushed up against her delicate throat. The eyes of him were wild, full of uncontrollable rage only a madman would dare express. Never before had a man looked so much like a dragon. His hands already reached Uther's neck before he spoke in a gruff voice.

"You took my home, my family, the dragons, and even took the woman I love. Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now!"

Uther had already pulled his blade from the scabbard, and plunged it deep into the leg of the Dragonlord. Blood spattered the floor, but the sword still blocked much of the blood from dripping out.

Balinor let loose a howl of pain, and his fingers were pried off as he was restrained.

The collected and calm monarch had already stood from his throne. Biting back impulsive orders to kill the Dragonlord, Uther spoke coldly. "I am the only one who is able to stop the commands of the burnings. And I am willing to stop the slaying of magical beings, but only if you give time to listen."

A dragon's pair of eyes looked up, mistrust obvious in his gaze.

Hunith looked towards Uther, unwilling to show her paralyzing fear. But when she saw Arthur, her heart melted at the sight of the little boy. The Ealdor woman gave him a sweet smile. When the young prince saw her, his eyes lit up as he tugged the hand of his nurse to try to get to the woman. His voice sounded small, and had a light friendliness that resembled nothing of his father's own.

"Mama? Daddy, is that Mama?" Arthur asked, barely able to contain his excitement over the answer. Uther's eyes went as hard as stone. The King looked like he was about to speak, yet that woman from Ealdor had beat the king to it.

"Young Sire, why would you think that I am your mother?" Hunith asked, her voice as soft as silk and sweet as honey.

Uther's head snapped towards his son, but Arthur continued the conversation, holding the little wooden knight as tight as a toddler could. His deep blue eyes became sad as he told Hunith what his daddy had told him only a few days before.

"Daddy says that Mama was a pretty lady, and that she had to go away to a faraway place. A castle in the clouds." Arthur then looked up with such vivid happiness, it nearly made the woman cry. "But I knew you'd come back, I knew you would!" Arthur's tiny hand pulled free of the nurse's and he threw his arms around Hunith's torso, a smile stretching across his face and tears dripping down his face. The knight had been long discarded, for now the wooden toy lay under the tiny prince's feet.

The woman could only stare with shock and sadness at this little boy's story. No son should be deprived of a mother.

As her delicate hand reached out to Arthur's, Uther's barking order snapped her out of her shock.

"ARTHUR! Take him back to the nursery!"

The nurse, with a flourish of skirts, snatched the boy into her arms. She didn't even spare a glance at Hunith as she carried Arthur on her shoulder.

Yet the young prince was screaming and kicking to get himself free from her tight hold. He didn't understand! Mama was right here! Daddy's taking her away again, and not letting him at least tell her goodbye! It wasn't fair! "Mama! Please Daddy! Please let Mama stay! I want my Mama here with me! Please!"

The crying toddler was soon carried out of hearing distance. But it still made Hunith shed tears at this little boy, who had lost his mother so young, he'd never seen her face. She cried, choking sobs breaking the woman's usually calm demeanor. Hunith thought about how she and Gaius, her brother lost their parents when they were both children. The woman couldn't imagine life without at least knowing one's parents.

"No boy should be without one's moth..." Hunith didn't even realize she had spoken until she was interrupted.

Uther's hand whipped across her face, ending her outburst. The slap was hard enough to leave a mark, a narrow cut on her face that was already beginning to bleed. Knights turned to stare at each other, wondering what had possessed the monarch to hit a woman. But the King didn't care, he was already seething as he shouted at the woman.

"You traitorous woman! You dare tell me what's good for my son?! He's the Prince of Camelot, not some simple peasant boy!"

Blue eyes widened in shock. Of course she hadn't meant any corrections to the king. No one could do so without either a noble or having everything lost from the neck up. But there was one thing that Hunith would never do. She would never remain silent when this king, this _vile man, _had been cruel to his son. Just because of her. Just because of what Uther didn't say to his son.

"The young Prince isn't you Uther, he may be blood, but he _is_ only a child! Arthur doesn't understand what's happening! He doesn't even know what his mother looked like. So how was this my fault that he thought that _I _was? This is your fault Uther Pendragon, and not even your kingly decrees can change it." Hunith replied, her voice defiant and strong when faced with an unstable king. She was not yet deterred from her anger at the monarch. A man couldn't do that to his son, leave him missing his mother to the point where he assumed the role could be filled by any woman walking by.

Balinor gave her a look of fear, not for himself, but for his lover. The man's blood still fell steadily on the ground, staining it Pendragon Red. But it was nothing compared to the red that Uther was seeing. His hand went up again, and this time, slapped her hard enough to make her scream that much more chilling. She was holding her face in one hand, her tears trickling down her face slowly like dripping candle wax.

Balinor roared as he stumbled to his feet. The guards were brushed aside as easily as flies, even with his injury. Balinor rushed to his beloved's side, showing still no regard for the deep laceration in his leg, and holding her delicately. His wounded leg was bleeding more profusely as the sword moved and the blade managed to wedge itself deeper into the injury. But the Dragonlord was oblivious to the wound, or he just didn't care.

His beloved Hunith's safety concerned him more. He turned to the monarch."Do you expect me to make peace with a tyrant?! You injured my wife!" Balinor held her close, clasping her hand in support of her endurance.

Uther stalked back to his throne and sat down with his arms folded. His eyes were now steady and his composure regained.

"I do expect you to agree, otherwise this woman will be sentenced to death for harboring a sorcerer." Uther signaled the guards to hold the knife against her throat.

Balinor was pushed away and restrained as he saw Hunith tense up with fear. The Dragonlord only hesitated a moment, until he saw the knife slip in the guard's untrained hand. There was a faint line of blood beginning to surface from the open wound on her neck. He cried out, pleading mercy for his poor beloved. He looked up at Uther with desperation.

"I will obey any demands! Just please, let her go!"

"Very well." Uther replied smugly. To the guards, he muttered a set of commands that released the injured woman.

She fell to the floor, gasping for breath as her throat slowly dripped scarlet raindrops onto the marble floor. Looking up at Balinor, she tried to stand, but she stumbled and fell into his arms. Her collective, short gasps broke the uneasy silence of the throne room.

"You must tell all sorcerers, including the Druids, that from here on out, they are banished to the Darkling woods. And should we find a sorcerer has left, the penalty of the crime is death."

"Why should I? All of the sorcerers can take apart any kingdom we wish. What's to say we refuse your offer?" Balinor raised an eyebrow, his eyes still holding the look of mistrust.

Uther sighed, and stood tall and kingly. Walking over to the couple, his footsteps echoed as loud as the beat of a drum. The pace was slow, deliberate, yet at the same time wary. When he stood in front of the Dragonlord, still sitting while holding Hunith, the king gazed down with remorseless demand written in his features.

He only said four words in reply, but they still made Balinor's heart stop.

"Then watch them burn."

**I know I may be an Uther right now and be mean to you all by leaving it off here, but I hope it has you intrigued!**

**Review Question: Do you think that even destiny can prevail this challenge?**

**Dragon Out!**


	2. The Burning Eyes of Gold

**I'm so glad that so many people already are reading this story! Thank you so much my friends! Every single review, favorite, or follow makes me feel great.**

**I do hope you like this chapter!**

**Onward my reader friends!**

It was when Balinor returned to Ealdor, for Uther gave them until the end of January to leave Camelot's borders, when he found out Hunith was pregnant. And only a few weeks later, she went into labor.

Women rushed her through the door of their home. Within the hour previous, her waters broke. The screaming rivaled that of when Uther had slapped her.

The Dragonlord had stiffened when he heard them after remembering what had happened previously in Camelot. Balinor stood with worry and began to make his way towards his beloved and help her through her pain. It was only the men in the tiny village that could hold him back.

"Only the women are allowed in there, so you have to wait until she's done friend."

Balinor turned to see a man who appeared the same age as himself, only with a shirt of chainmail and beaten down features that made him appear to be twenty years older than he truly was. The Dragonlord then remembered that this was a man whose wife delivered just before Hunith and himself had arrived. Their son's name was Will, Balinor remembered.

"Don't worry, the contractions are part of it. Shoulda seen Catalina with them, she was screaming so much I was scared that she was attacked by the Saxons! I came in with a sword, and the woman rushed me outta there so fast, I didn't have time to blink! But she was so happy with Will that she said that the agony was worth it. Ya know, it's like they say, out of the deepest darkness, light shines through." he gave an encouraging, and yet tired smile. Balinor just laughed nervously. He sat back down, his leg moving and bouncing with anxious anticipation.

The scream erupted again, shrill against the cold air. Balinor clenched his fists in anticipation, his bated breath looking like smoke. His knuckles were white. Balinor was even more tense than earlier. But he kept repeated that the screams were normal and that Hunith was fine. _Hunith is fine, Hunith is fine, HUNITH IS FINE!_

Moments passed that seemed as tedious and long as hours. _He was going to be a father. _Balinor hadn't fully understood when Hunith first told him. But now he realized that Hunith and himself were going to be parents! How could he be a father?! The Dragonlord had been alone for so many years that he'd forgotten what his own family was like. His mother's face, his father's name...

Which had him on a different subject, the name for the baby. If it was a girl, Balinor had no clue. Girls' names had to be beautiful, pretty and elegant. There was no name as beautiful as Hunith, and he couldn't very well call a daughter after her mother. He still pondered at this for a few moments longer. So then when he thought of a boy, names rushed past him like a river of ideas. But one name stuck with him, repeating and echoing for an indefinite amount of time.

_Ambrosious._

It was the name of a legendary wizard, the one who could turn back time and turn snakes into dragons. Balinor somehow knew that this child was going to be magical. If it were a boy however, the Dragonlord legacy would continue through him. And Balinor could teach him all of the magic that he can, and Hunith would tell him over and over about how proud they were that he's their son. It wouldn't even matter if they were banished to the Darkling Woods eternally. He'd have Hunith and their child. Nothing can deter that destiny.

As a bird in the distance screeched seemingly out of nowhere, the man looked up. It was as if suddenly reminded that the world is still moving forward. That time hadn't stopped. But something seemed to be wrong.

Balinor thought that everything seemed fine. The wind was chilly, the sun was above them, and it was silent. But that was what seemed so different. There was scarcely a time today when everything went quiet. The Dragonlord jumped as realization hit him as hard as an arrow. Wind rushed by his ears as he strained to listen for something, _anything _to prove himself wrong.

After a few more moments, he knew his prediction was true. _It was too silent for too long. Something is wrong. _Just as suddenly, the door burst open, and a woman appeared. She was flustered and as pale as a phantom, her front was stained with blood. Balinor rushed inside and this time no one stopped him. He pushed past young girls and old women, each looking hollow. The Dragonlord quickened his pace. He was met with a horrible scene.

The air reeked of blood, and it was fresh. The sharp metallic scent nearly choked him. Sheets were being carted away, stained ruby and brown.

Balinor put his hand against the wall to steady himself. The room was spinning around like a top. He couldn't feel anything, not the rush of gasps leaving his body, or the extreme heartbeat that seemed to pulse throughout the house. Yet he did end up hearing his beloved Hunith's weak whisper of his name. Breaking his spell of paralysis, he feebly made his way to the woman's bedside.

Hunith had sweat beaded across her brow. White as a sheet, she breathed as if she were holding in racking coughs. She looked so much weaker and younger, a tiny dove with its wings broken.

He held her hand with both of his and lightly pressed her fingers against his lips. Gentle words were used to tell her how everything was going to end up well. Smiling small, she put her delicate hand brushed the stubble of a beard that had begun to grow from Balinor's unshaven face. She breathed in the scent of his clothes, the pine and the rustic woody smell she came to love. In her exhaling pant, she spoke softly.

"We have a son... a beautiful baby boy..."

Her eyes lit up as a woman brought the said newborn in, swaddled in the softest blankets they had in the village.

The boy had hair the color of raven feathers, and his eyes were as blue as the sea. He was perfect in every way, healthy and breathing strongly. Yet he did not cry. He struggled feebly against the nurse, but when handed to Hunith, he calmed immediately and snuggled against her chest. Blue eyes filled with such childlike innocence, it brought his mother to tears.

"Balinor... what should we name him? I had an idea... if you wish to hear it." Hunith held the child close, his tiny hands clasped hers as he yawned. He looked up at Balinor, who looked at the baby boy with such love, only Hunith's love could match it.

"Of course. What do you think he should be called?"

"Merlin." the child squirmed, hands raised excitedly as his face split into a newborn's smile.

Balinor knew at once that it was a sign.

Merlin loved his name.

When Balinor whispered that the name suited nicely, Hunith leaned back into the bed. She was happy, happier than she could ever remember being in Ealdor. She gazed into the eyes of the child, when his eyes glowed gold.

They shone like stars for only a moment. Then Merlin's eyes returned to their normal blue color. An extra blanket weakly levitated towards Hunith, settling into her lap.

She wasn't surprised that he had magic. But what she hadn't expected was that he'd get it so early. Hunith looked at Merlin again, when a light came over her eyes.

_She saw her son, in the Darkling Woods as a little boy. He wore deep midnight robes that rivaled the sky. But when he looked up, the branches were tightly knit into a web so tight that not a star blazed through. His eyes were sad and mournful, but the boy kept walking towards a pillar of rocks. He grasped a stone and steadily climbed to the top. This time when he looked up, dusty clouds of stars gazed back, winking in the moonlight. As he stood there he whispered in voice as light as the wind,_

_"I hope I can see you one day."_

_When she saw Merlin again, he was older, about eighteen years old. He stood beside a noble, clad in the finest chain mail and a gilded crown on his brow. They greeted each other like old friends, laughing and smiling. But most importantly, standing as equals. When Merlin's mother heard the name of the crowned boy, she was surprised to see that it was Arthur Pendragon, the young Prince who thought that she was his mother._

_The last scene she saw was of Camelot. Yet the air of it felt different. There was no choking hold that Uther kept his people bound. This town felt free. Colored banners waved in celebration as all citizens of Camelot ran towards the square in excitement. The chopping block had been removed, and two men stood on the balcony of the castle. Arthur was recognizable, in his Pendragon robe of red and the dragon encrusted with gold. But Merlin was different. His midnight robes had been removed, and now he wore chain mail. Over his shoulders was a cloak of blue, and a gold dragon on the breast. The druidic triskele encircled the back of the cloak. Arthur announced Merlin as his Court Warlock. The crowd rejoiced, screaming at the top of their lungs._

_"Long live the King! Long live the Warlock! For Albion!"_

"...nith! Hunith! Is something the matter?! Hunith!" Balinor saw his beloved's eyes glaze over, and she hasn't spoken to respond to the Dragonlord. Was she alright? Or did she...

_Stop. She's not leaving so soon. She's __**not **__leaving us, I won't let it happen!_

Hunith blinked once, then twice. The misty fog dissipated when she looked at Merlin again. He calmly had fallen asleep. His face was so serene that Hunith cried. She looked at Balinor her eyes teary. She told him only about her son.

"His destiny... has been written in the stars... Take care of him Balinor... I love you both so much... tell Merlin, about my love for him... and that I'll always be there..." Hunith gasped as she forced the last few words out.

"In spirit..."

She slowly woke Merlin, his sapphire eyes gleaming. She kissed him lightly on his brow. Her hand stroked the raven hair so gently, it was as if she were holding a fragile treasure.

"I... love you... so much... my young Merlin... Balinor... I... I shall always be... with... you..." Hunith weakly gave Merlin to Balinor, and she panted. Her heartbeat slowed and wavered like a candlelight flame. And as softly as a candle wick flickers out, so did was when Balinor shed tears for the first time.

When his beloved wife had died.

Balinor fell to his knees, the child and himself crying. Merlin's magic responded again, the wind whipping into a flurry of frost and snow outside. With another scream, the wind grew stronger and shattered the windows into shards. Then it halted and stopped. Balinor faintly heard bells tolling midnight.

Christmas Day.

"Merry Christmas Hunith..."

**I know that everyone is going to want to kill me for killing Hunith, but I wanted some strong incentive for Balinor to hate Uther and his son. I hope it was good.**

**R&R**

**Review Question: Did I do decent on the birth of Merlin?**

**Dragon Out!**


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